


perdition

by trailingviolets



Series: Fourth Verse AU [3]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: (SUSPECTED non con drug use), Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, CRYBORGSSSSSS, Canon-Typical Violence, Dehumanization, Human Kylo, Implied/Referenced Torture, Multi, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Overstimulation, Robot/Human Relationships, Sex Pollen, Stream of Consciousness, cyborg rey, i love you bi&readytocry i've read all of ur bookmarks, in honor of mitha goddess, slightly OOC Hux, soulmate rejection (be forewarned)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:00:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25741705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trailingviolets/pseuds/trailingviolets
Summary: Denied by his soulmate, human Kylo suffers in a morale facility for rejects. Rey is the fourth assigned to his bedside, though ignorant of human behavior and the revolution outside.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Rose Tico, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Series: Fourth Verse AU [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1642372
Comments: 29
Kudos: 55





	1. sunrey

**Author's Note:**

> TW: violence, medical kink (not the usual tho so proceed with caution), induced sexual reaction (sex pollen trope), gaslighting, small penis, etc. as/ listed in the tags above
> 
> if you see a wayward tag, please let me know - i will tag/retag/untag anything requested of me. the tags are already shaming my existence.

Every morning the human wakes facing the wall. 

He’s shackled there. 

Docile, he rolls to the side when asked. 

He lets Rey unbutton his gown. 

It falls to his shoulders, to his hips, down to his ankles as she lathers his skin with disinfectant. 

After she changes the sheets, turning the human towards the east-facing window. He squints in the light, tears falling down his eyes as she squeezes his wrists once, twice. 

Harder until he obeys.

Each time it tugs deep at Rey’s soul, the sense that something is terribly wrong.

It’s in his weariness, the bags under his eyes. How he stoops when he stands, arms and legs cuffed together. Shaking in the cold.

The human stares back while she watches him at the urinal, through the bathroom mirror at her blank frown. 

His penis is small.

That could be the reason for his rejection. 

Or it could be that the human's soft at heart. Weak.

Male rejects are known for taunting borgs. Calling them names, tampering with any equipment left out. 

Grabbing Rey by the ponytail as she walks down the hall, so she has no choice but to offer punishment.

She despises male humans.

Except this one. 

Hers.

He touches himself, sometimes. 

Hunched over the porcelain, panting. Eyes glued to Rey who stands frozen at a remove, heart pounding. Not daring to look towards her reflection.

Scared to see what emotion she's feeling written plainly, to betray any at all. 

Waiting for the inevitable moment when he will ask, airily- 

“What’s your name?”

She never tells. 

\---

He’s one of the humans who goes quietly to the redevelopment wing, submitting to Snoke and his scientists. Willing to do anything to be taken from his grief if only for a few hours.

More often than not Kylo is given stronger doses for his compliance. 

They test him and another human together, hidden from each other behind flimsy plastic curtains.

Once over the threshold, they become experiments. 

Not people but numbers, 84 & 65\. 

Through the small, square-cut window, Rey watches 84.

Hers.

He seems to enjoy overstimulation, at times leaning into what she assesses to be the most unrelenting pain. 

His wrists bruise against the cuffs, his face goes red. He reeks of oil and sweat despite her efforts to keep him clean, writhes on the table though it gets his gown filthy. 

He claws at the vinyl, toes curled in the stirrups. He shouts for more of the pollen they give as a replacement for soulmate sex. 

He sprays cum across the metal tray, on the wall and down his chin. He messes the fur on his stomach with it. 

Ruining himself so later she’ll bathe between his legs. He wants her to scrub his penis, though it twitches sore in her hand when she tries. 

Still hard, still too sensitive to the touch. 

Raw and bleeding from exertion, though he keens and begs for Rey to finish him again, metal cuffs scratching the bed rails.

She reminds herself again, the facility is for the human’s own good. 

So he can learn to be happy. Not a danger to himself, like a reject often is. 

So he can show good behavior, and be released. 

It’s duty that inspires Rey. 

Duty alone.

Not overrun desire, not obsession or jealous want.

The human needs to stop crying, to quit fussing and rest. 

To heal.

Not to drip tears on her blue cotton dress, as the world around her shrinks. 

Pretending he hasn’t been fed so she hangs a bag of banana-brown sludge on the pole. So she touches the delicate, shivery hairs on his belly to find the hybrid port. 

So she strokes his back as he eats, lets herself touch his pretty hair. 

Pretending too. 

For the briefest time, in the devout silence between them, it’s unspoken that Rey is human. 

A woman his age. His soulmate. 

That they live in a rundown apartment, that in the morning she leans over a mattress on the floor, waking the human.

Waking her husband Kylo, from a long, desperate sleep. 

She reaches behind his ears to brush his hair back, as he likes. She tickles his chin with her fingers. She nuzzles their noses together, their warm lips-

His cock is warm through the gloves, but they’re not in the hospital-

They’re safe at home. They have time. 

He takes her human waist, licks her out slow. Rey’s head falls back. She makes noises.

She gets the flying feeling in her stomach of going down the freight elevator, too fast, too far. Clinging to him for purchase, digging deep red marks down his back, across his face. 

Rey claws the human to pieces trying to climb into his world, into her dreams.

She’s emotional after. 

Sorry even. Cleaning his split face, careful with the rubbing alcohol. Not too much.

She knows it burns. 

There’s a lot about the human she knows: 

Kylo’s hers. 

She was made for him. 

If he dies, Rey serves no purpose in the colorful world above. 

She’ll go underground where there are no birds and no ice cream. No rain. 

No laughter even in short, bitter bursts. No pretty, unendowed humans. 

Just stainless steel walls, bars like cages along an endless assembly line.

Her burial will be with his, like a real soulmate. Her human time will be finished, she’ll be left to wither-

To become obsolete-

So it’s best to keep him happy, or try. 

Rey never stops trying. 

\---

The borg thinks he’s handsome. 

Kylo can tell by the way her cheeks pink up. She’s achingly beautiful. 

She’s the only touch he’s allowed. 

She’s god. 

He knows she watches Snoke’s lab techs dose him. 

Hux says his bot looks too, the black-haired one with soft eyes. 

He says he’s never punished by her. 

That she runs lines with her nails down his cock for hours, so he keeps coming and coming. 

She gave him a name to call her, Rose. She snuck him coffee on his birthday.

She gets up on the bed and spoons him when he’s sore, when he’s crying because Phasma went through with the papers. 

Kylo never met his soulmate. Can’t even remember her name.

It was all done by statistics. He was given a page which he eagerly agreed to- 

Anything, anything to finally meet her-

And she declined. 

So he was sent to Perdition, where he spends his days in a faded yellow room. 

Rattling his cuffs, hopped up on sex pollen.

He thinks they tell the fourths another story, that they are caretakers, nurses in a hospital.

Kylo hopes Rey doesn’t know the truth, because he would need to be with her-

To love her anyway.

\---

The human refuses to eat his ice cream. 

It upsets Rey, this simple failing. 

He says there are sleeping pills in it, but she didn’t prescribe any. 

Snoke wouldn’t do that-

So she tries again. 

Getting the spoon close to his lips. Petting his hair so he looks in her eyes, all liquid panic. 

It’s true he falls asleep fast every time, but her human is tired, he needs rest- 

He needs to heal. To leave this sad place. 

“Tell me your name.”

It’s his only request, his only form of resistance.

Rey can’t. It’s not official. 

She made it up on the old ward, before Perdition. In training there were sunny rooms and smiling medical dummies. 

They were given rotations.

Sweetpea, Rosebud, Sunrey-

Semantics, Rehabilitation, SexPollen-

She named herself Rey after seeing a video on soulmates. How it’s supposed to happen naturally without stimulants, two people falling in sync. In love.

Like sex pollen, Rey is only the next best thing to real. 

She thinks all this with chocolate ice cream melting down her cracks, past her elbows onto the linoleum. 

With Kylo in his chains giving a washed-out, tortured smile. 

Begging, rubbing his penis against her leg. Smearing trails of precum on the cotton.

So small.

His baby pictures, his old name-

She would have adored Ben’s every word, if he was hers.

“It’s Rey,” she says, taking a seat on the bed. “Rey as in sex and you need to eat.”

\---

Like Hux, he collects reasons to hope he’s gotten to her.

Rey gives him plenty. 

Tugging at her stiff cotton dress. 

Letting his groggy eyes follow her tits as she leans over him. Sponging off the grime and sweat and cum from the lab. 

Making him clean as she’s obsessed with. Fixing what broke Kylo a hundred times before.

“I like you,” he tells her. “I wish you were my soulmate.”

“You're just sayingthat.”

“I mean it. Imagine being with other humans, out there-”

“I’m not human.”

“You are. _"_

Her expression goes blank like she’s about to offer punishment. 

_Does he want to be placed in temporary isolation? For her to clear his head?_

Instead Rey smiles as if the word alone is beautiful to her, and she wants him back.

After she says, careful not to be overheard-

“I’m only human with you.”

\---


	2. is this all there is?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: violence, sex pollen content/size content

Rose changed her mind about Hux when he pulled a knife on her, not two days after being admitted. She tried wrenching his shoulder out of joint, biting his hand to get free. Still he persisted, rolling them across the linoleum in a deadlock. 

Unconsciously, viciously humping her leg. 

Finally, after years of looking the other way she understood. Touching him gently through the seam of the gown where it had fallen open, brushing his painful cock. 

Asking against his neck, “Is this your fucking problem?” until she felt his tears on her skin. How fast he crawled off of her, dragging his injured arm to the corner. How pale he looked.

Repeating, “I’m sorry,” as he openly cried. 

Snoke called it the tipping point, when humans were physically broken. 

Rose knew it only as love. 

Or hope.

Taking his mangled hand and sucking the blood away. Letting him curl up, skinny in her lap as she brought him off. Endlessly, sweetly moaning in her ear, admitting-

“Rose, you’re pretty,” like it was a crime.

After, Rey felt her friend become human, inured to the unpleasantness of the hospital but seeing it with fresh eyes. Though holding all power, she never toyed with Hux’s emotions. 

Smuggling real medical texts into the facility, passing on what information she understood to the other fourths. Explaining that the experiments were to develop a replacement drug, not cure the humans of their loneliness. 

Saying in the dead of night, hunched over Rey’s monitor on the ward, “I’m going to get him out.”

\---

Over time they formed an awkward resistance to Snoke’s experiments. If a pair of patients were scheduled to be operated on, they took turns sabotaging and making up excuses. Rotating the blame so there was punishment enough to go around, spread so thin it was weak, ineffective. 

None of the fourths failed to partake after seeing diagrams of what surgery meant. Rose’s books made more sense than the system bothered to.

What’s more, many of them had everything at stake. 

Including Rey.

\---

Increasingly they caught glimpses of pushback from outside. Protesters at the facility doors holding signs that read _is this all there is?_

Humans who felt cheated, robbed of their real soulmates who were neighbors or distant friends, thwarted by social standing or distance. 

Clearly it was all fake. Their world amounted to nothing more than an elaborate lie.

Enough people wanted justice for the borgs that it was talked about as news. Rose pointed out signs that read, _don’t you have a soulmate?_ Hundreds of them over the space of a week. 

Indiscernible, faces lit by their phones along the main drag of the city. Caught in a relentless, soaking rain as the rebellion continued.

Some view.

Standing by the window, Rey’s eyes went to his body, wrists cut by the cuffs. Cock tenting his stained gown, trapped in a twilight state where he thrashed and moaned and muttered as he came. 

Hux was trusted; he didn’t wear restraints. He didn’t have bedsores that itched; he didn’t pee in a jug. He was free and healthier for it. 

Slowly she undid the metal. 

Snapping it back in place when Kylo lunged at her not a minute later. Voice cracking from disuse, groggy, asking so sincerely for touch that Rey grit her teeth.

“No,” was the only safe answer.

“It’s the drugs,” he said at last, drifting off again. “I don’t care if you're mean.”

\---

Often she was worse than mean. Sadistic and indifferent and vengeful at once. 

Working heated lotion over his cock, in the slit so it burned for hours. Slapping him out of an orgasm so he stared dumbly at her, pleasure gone, hips writhing in frustration. 

Enjoying what little power she had over Kylo, so pathetic he didn’t care but groveled to be held every time. She reveled in the thought, over and over-

_He won’t leave. He wants me no matter what, he wants me-_

It had to stop, it did stop.

So the bruises and scratches on his back weren’t hers. She exposed them to the light, face twisting in pity. Some were deep enough they looked painted on, surreal.

“Who did this?”

“The men.”

“Where?”

“In the common room, while you were busy.”

The rest answered itself. 

\---

Hardly feeling her heels hit the tile, she stalked to Rose’s station.

“Tell Hux to tell his friends, if they touch him again I’ll kill them all.”

Taking bactine and antibiotic ointment from her drawer, leaving it ajar so Rose had to walk around it, stumbling to get to the room. 

Kylo perked up when he saw her. Obediently rolling on his side, exposing his ass. She always had a gentle touch, an apt name for what she was. Unfailingly kind. 

“No shots today. I need to look you over.”

Really, it was a favor. Rose was the only approximation of a nurse they had. She was the one who tentatively, covertly started giving vaccines. Lifesaving vitamin shots and B12 supplements, anything they could steal from the army supply. 

“You smell good,” he said. “I like when you’re here.”

To piss Rey off she leaned into it, stroking his cock idly. Letting him shiver in her palm; giving him the slack to nuzzle her as she bandaged his cuts. 

“Was Hux one of the men who did this?” she asked.

“No, he was with you.”

Rose’s eyes went to Rey. It was a look that said _do better._

“Alright,” she burst out, across the room before she could think. “I’ll handle it.”

Only Kylo flinched. Drawing back, mouth pulled into a frown. Staring at Rose like he wanted back in the safety of her arms. 

It made Rey softer than before, almost worshipful in her apology. Whatever the hospital was, humans were supposed to be happier there than alone.

He'd just been dosed, waiting in pain to cum. If she left him unattended it would hurt all night.

The bar was so low and still she wasted their time together.

Not anymore.

She knew what to do from Kylo's begging. Asking her to fix his hair, to let him kiss and suck on her fingers. To get her hand slick with oil, making the tight fist he liked with her thumb at the tip.

He was still hers; she made him say it a dozen times before she moved.

Telling him, "Rose is taken," sharp and scolding. “Get your mind off her.”

“My mind is on you, but you hate me.”

“I don’t hate- I don’t _feel_ anything.”

“You’re human, you have emotions.”

“Only here in this room.”

“You’ll see, it’s everywhere. You won’t be able to control yourself.”

“Like you?” she teased. 

“Like me.”

They were quiet after that. It was a rare peace, just hearing his soft moans. Licking across his lips. Slotting her narrow thighs to his, grinding, bracing down until he shuddered. Telling the one true secret she had.

“I’m built small. You’re perfect for me.”

Over and over. Reaching between them to rub his cock on the hem of her dress. Framing the praise as a simple statement of fact.

Of soul.

_You’re perfect for me._

Not letting go until he was exhausted, past the point of coherent thought. It was bad practice to lose control, strung out next to him on the mattress, but it felt necessary. 

He felt hers again. 

\---

As his head falls back she takes Kylo in hand. One last time, gentle.

Measuring his penis between her fingers. Watching it deflate and wilt back on his balls, spent and fragile.

By design imperfect. She loves how he can't hide, loves every part of the desperation there. 

There's no other way-

She has to get them out.

**Author's Note:**

> listen, i'm so sorry.
> 
> i just need to write to take the edge off, so i hope you're not annoyed with me for abandoning my WIPs to write this. 
> 
> if you are please leave a vicious comment. i will pin it to my wall to remind myself not to flake out.
> 
> please do not expect this to be high caliber - i am surprised if anyone finds this coherent.
> 
> thank you.


End file.
